


In Ruins

by SomeoneFromHeLL



Category: Shiki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeoneFromHeLL/pseuds/SomeoneFromHeLL
Summary: While standing in Sotoba's ruins, Toshio remembers a year, which had wrecked the temple. At least that greeting to damnation was a welcoming one...
Relationships: Muroi Seishin & Ozaki Toshio, Muroi Seishin/Ozaki Toshio
Kudos: 1





	In Ruins

Toshio inwardly paused in front of the mossy stone steps, which had led to the temple grounds. His gaze rose upwards. At first, his eyes caught the chapped gates, overgrown with vines, before they reached the mountain trail and the untamed fir trees surrounding it. This brought back many memories.

A bitter smile invaded. It perched on top of the man's lips and he exhaled, impulsively running a hand through his graying, scraggy hair. Toshio halted in the middle of that movement, since it once again reminded him of the years, that were already behind him. He hated being reminded of his age or being treated as a senior, when he rarely felt like one and yet, as the man gazed at the ruins of the gate, a thought encroached upon him - maybe he should accept that... The past won't come for a visit, nor will the youth welcome him back. All he had left was nostalgia... And even that was shrouded in melancholic gloom. 

Toshio slowly sat on the steps, taking in the ruffling of trees and the scent of spring. Sotoba seemed so lonely nowadays...

In his mind, he could envision the years, when it had flourished... His damned brain was surely getting sentimental. Toshio sighed against it all, shutting his eyes as if sewing them shut from this world. He hoped the past will welcome this vagrant kindly.

Heedful of Toshio's prayer, a colorful palette smeared his senses, bringing a fresh gust of chill and a bucket of rain from decades ago. Two late teenagers were running through damp and muddy streets of Sotoba, while atmosphere showered the soil, setting a mist to loom over the horizon. Their clothes were wet to a single thread and stuck to the bodies like pleading tics. Alas, that did not bother them too much and they would have ignored this discomfort, if it weren't for the fact, that the protective clothing now hindered their scurrying. 

In another slippery corner Seishin nearly lost his footing, he skid a few centimeters to the side, before regaining his posture. The duo paused after. They hunched their shoulders and panted in front of the dribbling stairs of the Muroi temple. The silver-haired male gave a sheepish grin Toshio's way, to which the latter giggled.

"We nearly made it."

"Yes... Nearly..."

"Ahh. I'm drenched to the bone..." Toshio whined out, fixing the strap of his senile satchel, so it wouldn't strangle his shoulder. The brunet soon sat down on the stone steps, under a shade of trees. He scooted closer to the edge and Seishin came to sit beside him.

"I hope it didn't get ruined."

"What?" Toshio threw him a funny grin. "The papers or your sweater?"

"Agh. The obvious..." Seishin rubbed the bridge of his nose. Toshio nodded at him, before his fingers hastily unclasped the metal buttons of the bag, so he could peer inside.

"They should be okay. You're being a worrywart again."

Seishin sighed and threw a slightly annoyed glance at Toshio.

"I'm surprised, that Takemuras allowed such a thing though."

"It was written in their will, so technically they did." Toshio smirked, closing the satchel securely. "Besides we'll give these back after our project is done, don't sweat it."

"Yes... But still..." 

"Seishin..." He pouted, but said nothing else. The remaining sentence fell flat somewhere inside his throat, dispersing completely. Instead Toshio's eyes landed on his friend's pallid palms, which were clasped on damp knees. He blinked. "Aren't you cold?"

"Huh?" 

"You seem cold to me." Toshio remarked, his eyes narrowing for a short instant. Seishin only stared at him, dumbfounded. Since no following response was given, the brown-haired teen extended his palm towards Seishin. "Show me your hands for a second."

Seishin frowned, reluctant to give in to his friend's opinion.

"It isn't that cold, Toshio."

"So you say." He sighed, taking off his gloves and placing them inside Seishin's swiftly turned palms. Before the silver-haired teen could give his friend a baffled look, Toshio leaned back. "Take my gloves. You need them more than I do, anyway."

"Toshio..."

"It's fine." He waved off Seishin's questionable peek. 

While the latter fidgeted with the given fabric, Toshio's gaze wandered off to the rainy horizon. He observed it for a second, clutching the satchel closer to his chest and concurrently closer to the shade of branches. 

"Looks like, we won't be able to move for a while unless you want to make a sprint to the temple."

Seishin eventually hid his hands inside the confines of ebony gloves; he retained a calm expression though.

"Should we?"

"I don't know. These stairs are rather long. It's a shame our mountains are so huge."

"Hmm, that does have its own advantages."

"Isolation. Yes." Toshio smirked in a ridiculing manner. The teenager's mind lit a distant bulb and so his mouth remained slack for a brief moment. He hastily dug his fingers inside the satchel. 

Seishin noted Toshio's obvious shift, but decided against mentioning it, and so his eyes rose to the awaiting stone steps, which had blurred in the far end. In accordance with the foggy smudge, Seishin could not see the temple grounds. The male's fingers clenched suddenly, landing on the cold concrete. He was debating, whether they should actually try their luck in running. The dim weather did not look like it will let down any time soon, because the cloud strenuously occupied Sotoba with its dingy presence. They could wait like this for hours; Seishin was expected to help in the temple today nonetheless... Besides, the cold decided to seep beneath his garments rather fervidly. In the end, he decided, that it was futile to stall for time, especially since their waiting was outstretched in an unidentified amount. They'll have to move sooner or later anyway. Nature was a gamble. There was no knowing, what kind of trump cards it had hidden inside its sleeve or beneath these clouds in a literal sense. 

Seishin took a lazy glance up at the grimy sky, which seemed in a similar state of stirred cream - apparently, he was getting hungry as well... Ridiculous...

As he was about to share his resolve with Toshio, a mechanical click sounded and a waft of smoke took him off guard, drifting right into his eyesight. Seishin blinked rapidly against the smoke, momentarily turning away from the unanticipated stream of tobacco. Toshio couldn't help but draw up the little smile. He dearly inhaled another line of smoke. It was as if the tobacco had been a fleeting bird, that Toshio tried to seduce under his care, soon enough he spoke up, taking the cigarette out.

"Oh, sorry about that."

"You could have warned."

"About what?" Toshio snorted. "Fine, next time I'll bring one for you and set the stage for us to smoke like a big poster or something."

"No, I'm not talking about that..."

"Then what are you weeping about?"

"I think, we should try going to the temple, instead of staying here."

The lit _snake_ stayed forgotten, trapped between Toshio's steel digits, while the teenager himself stared baffled at Seishin or more so at his friend's ignorance. 

"Unless you want to catch a cold in this weather."

"We are doing that now, aren't we?" Seishin jabbed.

"You're irksome today..."

"Yes, because your bad habits are rubbing off on me."

"Is that so?" 

"Ah..." A stubborn reply was given, as Seishin crossed his arms, only making Toshio's silent smirk all the wider, seemingly that phrase was nourishment for his hidden daemon. Soon enough Toshio veered the cigarette Seishin's way.

"Then you won't mind taking a smoke, _Toshio the Second_." Seishin wrinkled his nose. "It'll warm you up... Unless you really want to catch a cold."

"No. I want to go home."

Toshio frowned slightly, leaning back against the stone steps and taking a drag. His eyes trained on Seishin, already brimmed with his next statement.

"Why are you in such a hurry? Don't you see, we don't have any options?"

"That's... Questionable."

"Really?" Toshio raised his voice, arching an eyebrow too. "As much as I see it, there's no other way for us to get to the temple. Look at it this way, your mother and father won't praise you for acting rashly."

Seishin's lips moved into a thin line, pinching under a veil of deceit. His eyes flinched a couple of times at the mention of his parents. The pain in having a childhood friend, was the fact, they were viable to pinch, where it itched the most. Even if Toshio spotted, that he had fissured Seishin's armor, his mind had cooked up too many oppositions beforehand and so his mouth carried on. 

"If you're in such a rush to obey them, you won't notice, how they'll drag you into the head monk stuff... It's better to take things slow, think acts through and that's exactly what we're doing right now. Call this a rainy therapy session." Toshio waved his cigarette around. Seishin's eyes followed the dripping ash diligently. "Taste some freedom for once in your life, you don't know, when that will be taken. You have to think for yourself sometimes."

"That applies, when I'm with you too."

"In a way, yeah." Toshio shrugged, hiding the bafflement at his friend's straightforwardness. He was quick to discard the remnants of that surprise with a clear of his throat. "So, how about it?"

"About what?" Toshio wordlessly tipped the cigarette, holding a sheepish grin. Seishin exhaled. "This is ridiculous..."

"Hey, I'm telling you, it helps. Besides, it looks like we'll be stuck here for a while. Why not make the best of this?"

Seishin sighed in defeat, looping his fingers around the end of the stick. He took a few practiced inhales, letting the gathered smoke waft around his relaxed face.

"I forgot, you're not new to this..."

The silver-haired male frowned at Toshio's statement, handing back the cigarette, then his free palm massaged the throat, whilst his eyes were masked under lids.

"So what's this therapy about?"

"Whatever you want it to be." 

"Huh..."

"Our entertainment's gonna fade quicker than I thought..." Toshio tapped the cigarette, watching, as the ash separated from their lessening stick. "Now I'll be back to thinking, where to get more."

Seishin nodded, involuntarily bumping his shoulder with Toshio's. The brown-haired teenager didn't mind too much, he fixed his composure and leaned the free hand behind himself. The heat, that was emitted off of Seishin's body was pleasurable in a sense, at least they won't freeze to death...

And so the tip of the _coffin nail_ repetitiously sparked inside the foggy atmosphere, similarly enough to a lighthouse.

* * *

A few years later Toshio found himself inside the Muroi temple with melancholic winds tearing and desperately scratching at the warm confines. The air was growing cold, since the atmosphere's wheel veered closer to winter once again. After months and months of forbearing waiting, it could rage free... This madness seemed so uncanny to such a place, a place, that for these thirty two years the doctor had regarded as a second home. This autumn was unfavorable. It ripped apart too much... Muroi Shinmei had died back in September. Now it seemed that November was keen on taking Miwako too, perhaps even jealous of its brother's catch. Toshio's palms clenched themselves into tight fists, as he regarded the ailing woman, who was sleeping soundly on the futon. As was her wish, he opted for visitations instead of admitting her to the clinic, in the first few days she seemed to be faring better in the temple as well.

Toshio lowered his head, gritting his teeth. Was he a fool for heeding her wish? Could have he done something more than this or was the illness a play of fate, as Miwako had told him once. There was something inside the woman's voice, that rose her words on a pedestal, granting them power like no other. Denying her was futile, more so when Miwako had acted as a mother to him for so many years... Seeing her like this was devastating: sunken cheeks, pallid complexion - all so nauseating... And Toshio was too weak to do anything about this, he was losing against nature's whim. Was he that incapable or ignorant, too sentimental and obeying? Was he simply too late to learn about this genetic disorder - the disease, which was named as a literal curse - and robed Yamamura family’s daughters for centuries? Should he be thankful to this entity for taking Miwako at the reasonable age of fifty nine? 

Toshio exhaled, standing up and taking another look at Miwako. This was so hopeless... And the ferocious weather agreed with another screeching squall...

After the doctor exited the woman's bedroom with a gentle closing of the shoji, he was met with a mediocre light from another room. 

"How is she?" Seishin's eyes met with the doctor's instantly, when the latter came in. Toshio did not answer at first. He noticed a parted shoji, which led to the garden. The raindrops gingerly beat their porch, slithering inside the room with a swing of wind. Wasn't Seishin cold? What was the reason for heating the temple, if you proudly open a shoji after? If he wanted to freeze, he could have gone outside in the first place, at least wood would not be wasted that way. 

Despite those vexed thoughts, Toshio wordlessly got up and closed the shoji fully. He turned around in the now dimmed room, meeting Seishin's gaze, partially illuminated by the candle somewhere behind him. Soon enough the monk's lips parted, urging his friend with the same question.

"Toshio..."

"She's not well." He cut him off, returning to the table and kneeling opposite from Seishin.

"I see..." 

Those words faded into silence and left the room bathing in a soft cracking of the flame and the ferocious wind outside. Seishin sat still, tired eyes downcasted at his knees, where his fingers were clasped together as if postponing from the ghastly war, which had once commenced. The monk's hair was slightly unkempt and his skin - wan, housing pimples or blemishes here and there. Truth be told, Seishin seemed to have grown more silent after his father's passing, yet now his health seemed to have plummeted too or rather the man's carelessness had peeked. Seishin was always a little ignorant, when it came to his own health, only now that little part of him was shoved to the front.

"You don't seem to be resting well yourself." Toshio pointed out. When the quiet from his friend jabbed too much for his liking, Toshio cleared his throat again. "Despite your mother's condition, you should sleep more. There must be a lot of responsibilities on your shoulders now, when you're the head monk and all..."

"I know... I'll... See what I can do."

"Yeah, you should." He concluded, running a hand through his hair. A gnawing itch had coiled inside his throat, begging to be set loose. In the end, he sighed. "I understand, what you're going through, Seishin," Toshio sucked on his bottom lip for a moment. "and there's really no right way to put this... But please ready yourself for the worst."

A nod...

Those final words came out heavy and shattered beneath them like some prized porcelain plates, so unfair and piercing, they damaged both ends: the recipient and the giver, the latter even more so. Toshio's purpose as a doctor was to protect and nurture those in need. Death was a sort of metaphorical sign of failure. He was undoubtedly blaming himself again, looking lowly at his losses and incapabilities throughout these years. Seishin had seen him in this state a handful of times and none of those occurrences brought any good. Elongated grief will follow this tragedy. He couldn't bear to see his friend like that and there was no cure either, when Seishin would try talking to him - it would earn him angered flares of ego, if left alone - the wounds would grow bigger. Seishin's eyes slipped from Toshio's sulking outline to the shadowy door straight after his friend. The silver-haired male pinched his lips, before enquiring. His voice came off groggy at first.

"Would... You want some tea?"

"That would be nice."

"Or are you hungry perhaps?"

"No, thank you. You shouldn't pamper me, Seishin." Toshio exhaled deeply and the silver-haired male stood up, his legs wobbling a bit, since the knees had grown numb from sitting for so long. As he gently tapped to the door, a phrase flew out.

"I'll be right back."

As Seishin made his way to the kitchen, his mind growled at him from all sides... Was he really that powerless, as to rule escape as the only plausible solution?

When Toshio left, Seishin saw him off from the porch, perhaps fearful of stepping into the storm outside. It wasn't long until his friend's figure morphed and faded from view, even more so, when it had been shaded by the bouncing branches, those had danced like marionettes to the squall's order. Seishin cleared the table after and went to visit Miwako.

Once the door slid open, grinding against the floor, he saw, how her gaze slowly landed on the tiny light source from the corridor. Miwako's eyes squinted, so Seishin closed the shoji behind himself, kneeling next to her futon in the semi-darkness.

"Mother..."

"... Seishin?"

"Yes, I'm here." The silver-haired male whispered tenderly, keeping his face neutral, though he wasn't sure whether she could make out his features. "How are you feeling?"

The female blinked at him languidly, leaving her mouth agape for a moment or so, finally her voice sounded, enveloping the room in a calm blanket.

"Not the best."

Warm tingles scurried through Seishin's mind at that tone, caging his whole body in a trance and seting steel jaws around his head, making it pleasurably shackled and reluctant to move. This scene felt so reminiscent of his childhood... The man swallowed regardless, his fingers sneaking to caress her lonesome palm beside him, feeling the wrinkled flesh.

"Do you need anything?"

"You shouldn't trouble yourself with me..."

"Mother, I'm concerned for you, I should."

The woman smiled at Seishin, shifting her head to face him fully, while her graying hair was splayed out like an intricate web on the pillow. Miwako's hand rose upwards slightly, then turned over to grasp Seishin's offered palm.

"Don't be, dear. I'll be fine, you'll see..." Her thumb ran over his outer palm in a caring manner. She exhaled lingeringly. "You'll see..."

Seishin's captive limb stilled completely and so he sat in place, exchanging a stiff eye-contact with his mother's loving one. Her grasp was warm, tender, similarly to how it had been in the past. Seishin was sure, that if he wanted, he could have closed his eyes, then his mind would be displaced into the foreign childhood. Her infinite affection stayed rooted, it seemed, even though it might seem obsolete or unneeded. Surely, Seishin would not voice that. Right now she was the one, who was in a need of nursing... Why couldn't Miwako accept that? Were all mothers like this - so selfless to a point of destruction? Seishin could not speak for the majority, so this mystery remained unanswered. Miwako did have some kind of glimmer, that had penetrated him to the core, something, that had screamed finality in a matter, even more so than his father's tongue...

Locked inside his thoughts, the male barely caught, his name being called. He perked up, straining his shoulders.

"Yes?"

"Could you stay here for a while?" He nodded and Miwako emitted a sigh. "I don't want to... be alone..."

A wry face was quickly masked and Seishin shifted in the shadows, before taking in his mother's slow breaths. Somewhere during that time, he noticed, how her utter quietness mingled with the chill outside their abode. Her hand clutched his, mercilessly; perchance fearful of letting go as if one little slip up could sever this contact. It could have been a sign of fear, fear of the upcoming... Eventually, she spoke again.

"Your hand is cold."

"I've been outside for a bit." Seishin responded.

"Ah... So is Toshio-kun gone?"

"He went back a little while ago."

She smiled bitterly not long after and Seishin remained inert. He sat beside her, idly listening to the minimal variety of noises around him. After some time Toshio's words came ricocheting back at him, making his stomach spiral in on itself. Seishin frowned, lowering his eyes, before closing them altogether.

* * *

The next night, when Toshio's mind was half-asleep, gallivanting through mindless images, his phone rang. Toshio blinked a couple of times inside the pitch-black room, at first he was trying to determine, whether he was dreaming or not, before his mind decided on another tactic, which was to tire the caller until they'd quit, certainly what urgent business could anyone have in the middle of the night. At that thought, Toshio grunted and his face heated at his own ignorance - only urgent matters needed a nightly call in the first place. Eventually, he rolled out of bed with a groan of a beast, then, after a moment of pointless fidgeting, picked up the phone from the nightstand. Throughout this procedure, he had been lazily scratching his stomach behind the nightshirt.

"Ozaki, speaking." He muttered sleepily. Feigning attention remained to be an infeasible task.

"Toshio..." A meek voice responded.

"Seishin?"

"My mother... She passed away..."

The man's movements froze at those spiritless words. It took merely a couple of seconds for Toshio to regain his senses; suddenly he intermitted the buzzing of the phone lines.

"I'll come to your place."

"N-no... It's... Y-you don't have to."

"I'll be there in a few minutes, wait for me." He concluded and was about to slam the receiver down into place, when a muffled voice stopped him midway.

"Toshio..."

"What else?"

"It's nothing. F-forget it..."

The doctor knit his brows, before placing the receiver down, though that was where his strength had scattered and instead of hurrying to dress, the man stood rigid.

After Toshio finally gathered the scraps of his willpower to move, he was greeted by the ominously silent temple. It seemed different tonight, besides the fact, that the grass had been either wilted or frozen. There was an unpleasant feeling, a treacherous aura loomed over these coal mountains and he forced all of it down his throat, stepping near the door of the main household.

The same blaring gloom welcomed him inside. The entryway was shrouded in darkness, making it seem like the temple had been abandoned. He called out warily.

"Seishin?"

When no one came to meet him in the front, Toshio figured, it would be best to check Miwako's bedroom, he had a feeling, that his friend should be somewhere around there. As luck had it, he spotted the head monk kneeling next to the wan corpse. Toshio pried into the room, earning himself a pair of reddened eyes. He stiffly knelt down beside his friend, offering prayers to the deceased. Though as he did so, Seishin's look was edged into his mind. The monk had obviously been crying for some time now, his knuckles were also blushed. Toshio frowned at that discovery, though chose to finish his prayers regardless. After that was done, he placed his hand on Miwako's wrist pressing the stiff flesh for a pulse, when that did not affect, he unveiled the upper half of her body from the blanket. His friend's mother was most definitely dead. What was he trying to achieve here? He clicked his tongue, ordering his brain to shut up. Soon the eyes wandered over Miwako's chest, noting a drop of crimson below her breast. That little imperfection caught his interest, so without further ado, the doctor robbed the cyan garment from her upper half. As expected his rash actions had built a sour taste in Seishin's mouth, who grunted in disapproval.

" _T-toshio!.._ "

He ignored him though and placed two of his fingers onto the woman's lower ribcage, pressing there as if into a blemished dough. As expected, the bones were broken. They had been fine this afternoon. Toshio exhaled through his nose and slowly veered around at Seishin.

"At what time did Miwako-san die?"

“Early evening..."

"And you didn't bother to call me?" He spat, gaining a shuddering exhale out of his friend. Seishin's fingers wrung together and he swallowed a huge lump, while Toshio covered the corpse.

"When I saw, that her heart had stopped, I tried giving her a heart massage."

"You could've called regardless, there's a thing called a defibrillator, you know." Toshio hissed. "You overdid it. Miwako-san would have suffered now thanks’ to you fracturing her ribs."

"I-I didn't mean to..."

"I get that... Still..."

"Toshio, I didn't call you on purpose. I needed some time for myself."

"Ah. _You did_." The doctor murmured sarcastically, barely audible for the other to hear, meanwhile his expression stalked Seishin's puffy eyes, he continued to ogle, until Seishin shifted uncomfortably, eventually raising his head. Now they both stiffly stared into one another. When the silence and the white noise of the buzzing lamp above their heads, became too nauseating, Seishin's expression became wry and soon enough he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Toshio..."

"Sorry? Heh, you have nothing to be sorry for. It was my fault, that I didn't admit Miwako-san to the clinic."

"She asked you to."

"Yes, and I listened like an obedient puppy. Who's the doctor here, her or me?"

The sarcastic tone, remained unanswered, it climbed up the walls, merging into them, content to rot for all eternity... This place had become vile. What a disgrace to ruin such a room with the smell of personal death, add an argument like a cherry on top...

Seishin's teeth clenched themselves, whilst he continued to stare at the fallen in cheeks and the yellowish skin, her chapped lips. How he'll miss her voice, her essence in this house... He urged his mind to reminisce Miwako's voice as if conducting to a defiant orchestra. Inside this flurry to remember, the man's mind drew up the most recent patch of a conversation. Yes, in fact, mother had said something the previous night. It had gone along the lines of: _'I'm thankful to have raised a son, that's enough for me to be happy...'_

What a flawed resolution... If only she would have known, what a heretic Seishin had turned out to be, she really wouldn't have closed the page with him. Mother had so much to live for, so much to see, so much to experience. Why... Why did she have to...

Seishin closed his eyes, when they began to burn and the man's fingers meticulously rubbed his eyes beneath the glasses. Right at that time, he heard Toshio's voice.

"What about the funeral?"

Seishin's posture stiffened. Right, Toshio was still here. How he wanted for the doctor to go away at this point, he would have sold his soul for such an opportunity, since he wasn't in the mood to keep up his restraints, neither did he want to let himself cry in front of Toshio. Seishin slowly removed his fingers, uttering dryly.

"I-I'll take care of it... It's my job after all."

"And the Yamamura family? Do you need any help in contacting them?"

"No, I don't think, that will be a problem."

Toshio released an idle hum, probably mulling over his next response.

"If there's anything I could help with-"

"No... Uhm, you've already done your part, Toshio."

"Huh. Then what about the wake, have you thought about hiring a priest from Mizobe?"

"Why would I?" Seishin met Toshio with a raised eyebrow and the doctor stood up from his seating position. Seishin's startled eyes stalked him nevertheless. Maybe it was due to the jabbing gaze, that Toshio had decided to ditch the previous subject.

"I'm going out for a smoke, would you join me? Fresh air will do well for us both." The doctor shrugged, idly motioning his head at the door. Seishin sighed. He had no means to decline, so he gave one final look at his mother's corpse, before following Toshio outside. He gathered two haoris, one for himself, another for Toshio beforehand. 

Now both of them stood out on the porch, admiring the nocturnal atmosphere and the gliding clouds, hovering over the sky. As they stood still, the tip of the cigarette - their only glimmer - sparked ambiguously, once or twice. Seishin gave Toshio a side-glance, hiding his palms inside the sleeves.

"Toshio..."

"Uhm? What?" The brunet's tongue articulated poorly, after he had seemingly relaxed a little.

"The thing you said back in the house. I don't understand. Why would I need to hire a priest?"

"Oh, that..." A quick inhale. "I figured, you'd want to mourn Miwako-san. You know, leave the religious rites to someone else for once."

"It's my responsibility, Toshio. That would be disrespectful."

"So you say..." The doctor frowned, mumbling under his breath. He knew, how hard it will be for him. This wasn't Seishin's first time burying a close relative, and yet he still insisted to walk down the tear-stained path. The doctor wondered about Seishin's last words. To whom exactly was it disrespectful: his mother or the villagers? Seishin's stubborn resolve sickened him sometimes, and he continued to jab at the persistent glass, even though it was futile at this point... Toshio should have known better. In fact, they were both the same in that extent. A sigh escaped the doctor, before he dislodged the cigarette from his lips, fidgeting with it for a moment or two. "My concerns are needless at this point, aren't they?"

Seishin's eyes widened. Toshio took the monk's palm and placed the smoking cig between his fingers. Once that was done, Toshio smiled at his confusion.

"You finish it. Looks like you need it more than I do."

"Ah... Thanks..." Seishin narrowed his eyes absentmindedly. He needed to be alone now more than anything, though he supposed the warmth of tobacco could ease his nerve ends a bit as well. Toshio smiled at him, standing on the side. For an undetermined amount of time, that was all Seishin could see - a spiraled, clasped blur. After the last exhale, Seishin's mind wiped the fog, ordering his tongue to articulate an unrelated question.

"You'll be sleeping in the temple, right?"

"Well, I was planning on it." Toshio scratched his head. 

The word - sleep, turned out to be rather vague... Seishin understood Toshio's mindless care and so he said nothing. Both men feigned slumber after all. They laid awake in Seishin's little room on respective futons, pulled side by side, their backbones touching and acting as supportive poles.

* * *

The funeral went by smoothly...

Somehow, Seishin was able to hold the act together, keep his mask from fissuring and conducted the ritual as per usual. His emotions only peeked, when he was alone in the temple, only then did he allow his pretenses to fall.

It felt weird, maintaining this beast of an abode all by himself... The emptiness scratched at him days later. The monk figured, it will do so for years to come, he wasn't planning to marry any time soon to dispel this loneliness either. Let it tear at him, he'll be alright... Despite Seishin's beliefs, the house was lonely only partially, since in Toshio became more persistent in staying over after work. The doctor slept in the temple, similarly enough to how he had done so as a child and Seishin could not decide, whether his friend's persistent company was a welcoming change or not. It canceled his gloomy expectations, perhaps that was enough...

And so the days carried on in this proclaimed monotone. He acted as the head monk during the day, drank and chatted with Toshio by the night - his manuscript had laid forgotten...

After several weeks, it seemed as if things had finally settled... During one of these early mornings, he carried chopped wood back to the temple. Remnants of snow and frozen grass crunched below him. It had snowed a little the night prior, though he supposed, a true winter was yet to show up. As the man dragged a carrier with wood, his mind flew elsewhere, taking in the miniature sounds around himself along with...

"Seishin..."

"Mother?" His posture tensed and he veered around on instinct only to be greeted by a careless gust. The man pinched his lips for a silent moment, rubbed the bridge of his nose and carried on... 

* * *

As Seishin had suspected, in a few days the snow fell onto Sotoba in literal gobs. And now the mountains bathed inside this sparkling thick cover, which acted as a glimmer for the eyes.

Since it was a Butsumetsu, he called off the parishioners and instead of getting ready for the day, decided to shovel the overdue snow from the temple grounds. As Seishin was in the middle of work, he didn't notice a pair of footsteps tapping closer.

"You're busy today, eh? Maybe I should have scheduled a meeting personally?" Toshio joked behind his scarf. Seishin paused, stabbing the shovel into a heap of ivory and looked back at the man, who was dressed in a brown coat and brought trickles of snow onto the cleaned, rimy tiles. Seishin blinked at him.

"Be careful, the path might be slippery." 

"Should've been a sign down at the entrance. I nearly fell twice climbing up here."

"Ah. I'm sorry. That wouldn't have been a problem, if I had done this earlier." Seishin answered calmly to Toshio's whine, the latter rubbed his sore back for a short instance, standing in front of the monk. 

"Why don't you ask for help, Seishin?"

"I don't want to bother anyone."

" _Bother_? You won't bother them." The doctor hunched his shoulders, slightly leaning closer. "If the villagers already donate to the temple, they won't mind helping it look the part."

"That's a thing of the past, Toshio..." Seishin stiffly stepped back by an inch, clenching the shovel with one of his arms and using it as a crutch. Toshio straightened after seeing, that Seishin did not take his advice. It did not stop him from retaining a grin and he nodded more to himself.

"You used to shovel snow with Miwako-san and a few parishioners every other year, right?"

"... Ah..." Seishin released a vague note. He honestly had nothing else to say to that matter, since it had been a blatant truth in no need for debate. In the short-lived silence Toshio's eyes scanned the temple, spotting piles of snow, lining the roof, the ivory's reign only ended, when it was confronted with the woods, a little bit of color remained there. Toshio clicked his tongue, after the observation.

"Right, it must be hard, doing this all by yourself now..."

"It's not as bad, as you make it sound."

"Really?" He teased. "The temple probably fell into ruins, while I was gone."

"Please don't exaggerate."

"Yeah. You do need a housewife."

"Toshio... Ahm. That matter is not in my mind right now." Seishin flushed lightly, as he skillfully covered his mouth, mixing his words with a dry cough.

"I'm not talking about marriage. Couldn't you hire someone to take care of the house?" 

"Oh..." His shoulders fell then. He clutched the shovel's handle tighter, while his eyes ran along every little inch or cranny around him. "I'll... Think about that..."

"Ah. Then what about the snow? Do you need any help?" Toshio swiftly changed the subject, extending his palm to Seishin, who shook his head with a soft smile.

"If you insist, but there's really no need."

"Well, then I insist. Where do you keep the shovels nowadays?"

"I'll show you."

Arguing with Toshio was rather pointless, sometimes it was better to silently agree and carry on. 

Soon enough the men went or perhaps swam through the crystal flood to an outdated shed, that had been situated behind the temple grounds. The walk was tedious, because the hardened snow attacked and tickled their shins, creating a whole new chore. By the time they made it to the shed, Seishin's breathing was reduced to fluttering rags, only bare scraps reaching his lungs. Sweat trickled down his forehead and head spun, churning the stomach on a whimsical command. All of those signs eventually transmitted their message, since Seishin's body stiffly halted. The man leaned his side at the wall, while his numb fingers fidgeted with the lock. Toshio was blabbering something right behind him in his playfully irked tone, causing more racket than the monk would have wished for. It took Seishin a while to notice, that all he could hear were mingled mutters in the first place. They were coated nicely with a foreign buzz from his cracking brain. He could only scarcely take in the sights around him as well, the dull firs suddenly merged with the snow and haughty mountains, clambering in a ludicrous spiral. Seishin hunched over, unable to stand any of this. Frantic yells and foreign hands began to tug at his form, but even they were distorted. The eyelids closed entirely and his worn legs sank forward.

The world had morphed into a perpetual state of gloom. It was lulling, caressing him, singing lullabies next to his volitional ear. It would have been divine, yet... It stung somewhere on the side, a whole horizon away from him, but still so pellucid in his mind - Seishin did not want to go there. He did not have to. The intimidation he could feel was enough to cause fright. That constant itch hid in a corner like in a game of hide-and-seek. Seishin took a steep breath and the shining light, which up until now sat far away, advanced towards him. He had nowhere to run and was engulfed in a tasty bite. 

His eyes parted, groggily.

"You passed out." A voice proclaimed matter-of-factly. Seishin sleepily turned his head, spotting, that he had been lying on the couch in the living room, his feet lifted upon the armrest, since the couch was simply too small to take in his height. Toshio sat beside him on the edge, still dressed in a coat. Eventually, after registering the odd changes and taking in his friend's words, Seishin sat up, rubbing his face. His voice came out weaker than he expected or wanted at that matter.

"Toshio..."

"Do you need anything?"

"I'm alright. Give me a minute." He sighed against the redundant attention, Toshio only blinked at him.

"I'll give you a whole hour. You don't look too fine on a closer look."

"I think, I got dizzy. That's all."

"Did that ever happen to you before? I don't remember."

"No. I don't think so."

"Hmm? That's Interesting... When I said, the temple is in shambles, I was closer to the truth than I thought." Toshio paused, crossing his arms and staring intently at Seishin, who in return clutched his resting fingers, his expression falling into anticipatory disapproval as per usual. Toshio's tone of voice did not mean anything good. It was a sign, that the doctor was ready to critique. Soon enough, after involuntarily stacking up a dramatic pause, Toshio added. "I rummaged in your kitchen a bit, when you were out. You're practically eating scraps, aren't you?"

"Toshio... That's not the problem..."

"I get that you're overloaded with work, but try to care for yourself more," He rambled further, ignorant to Seishin's dismissive words. "and don't work with an empty stomach... I'll see, if I can convince my mother to make more food, so I could bring you the leftovers."

"Toshio, this isn't the cause."

"Huh? So what's your theory?"

"I haven't been sleeping well, that's all..."

"Ah, so you need sake to fall asleep nowadays? I'd say my job's done here." Toshio chuckled. "Seriously though, I could prescribe you some medication, if you'd want."

The woes of having a family doctor for a friend! You'd think they purposefully advertise meds for a living.

Seishin veered his eyes away for a moment, his attention suddenly caught by a distant scratching, that came from the outside. He listened to the anomaly carefully, before looking back at the brown-haired male. There was no reason for Seishin to lie, after all. He inhaled warily.

"It'll pass, Toshio. I just need to give it some time."

"You're certain? I don't want to find you fainted under layers of snow one day."

"You won't." Seishin sighed, languidly placing his feet onto the floor. He could feel Toshio's eyes glued to him throughout that simple process and afterwards jabbing at befallen silence between them. Finally, Seishin slew the quiet himself. "This is only temporary. I can't get over mother's death, that's all."

"Oh... So it's an emotional factor. It hinders your sleep?"

Seishin gave a frail nod, though she hindered a lot more than his slumber.

* * *

Another nocturnal chill ran its icy nails at the walls and windows, rattling the latters’ frames with no mercy insight. The squall was loud and the snow merrily painted on the worn atmosphere, rising and falling in rhythm with the gust. This was all just a game for them, yet to the villagers, this kind of weather was the most unnerving... People were confined in-doors. The weather also jammed the phone lines, thus cut off any means of communication with people inside the village, dooming them to a state of unknown... There was a phrase, which had gone along the lines of: _'people are strongest as a unit_. _'_ , then, naturally, scattered they were but puny beggars... The atmosphere was particularly keen on emphasizing that theory, seeding terror, wherever it laid its eyes upon. 

During the storm Seishin could finally breathe in. He carefully prodded the furnace, throwing more wood for it to gobble on, before he settled in the living room near a Japanese style table, his back resting against the heated cement blocks. In truth, he never admired heavier weather, storms especially. They were pretty severe in the mountains and used to frighten him up until his late teenage years. Even now a silent discomfort prodded, scurrying inside his feet. The monk's toes clenched themselves, before his hands drew up the manuscript to attention and the eyes feasted upon it, caringly. His mind became somewhat engrossed in the story, washing out the many background noises around him: the storm outside, the tapping of branches, the weeping and murmuring likewise...

Seishin's eyes rose. He surveyed the empty room, biting on the inside of his cheek. 

_'Don't cry, Seishin... It's alright the storm will pass by...'_

The sobbing continued and gradually merged with the wooden dry tapping... Again his mother's soothing voice came to aid.

_'It'll pass by and in the morning it'll be different…'_

An exhale was shoved out and his half-edited manuscript was placed on the table.

_'Seishin, I'll stay beside you... Shh, it will be alright..."_

The monk took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. The mouth expelled unheard whispers in between wet clicks of his tongue. He had to calm down... These visions did not frighten him, they were welcoming guests in a way, but they brought grief, despair and a notion of loneliness. 

Seishin shivered regardless of the warmth pressed against his back.

These rooms... All of them had her scent, held her belongings... Her mere spirit was trapped inside these walls, her words sunken into miniature gaps of the house. Miwako belonged here. The temple had become her essence. Without her it felt like this abode had lost the floorings, its main body... And left Seishing to stagger without a crutch or support... He needed his parents' strength to get through this, if this aguish was finite, of course...

"Mother..." Seishin muttered, gritting his teeth straight after. The arms were supported against his knees and he lowered his face onto the opened palms, who imitated deities, waiting for their lonesome sufferer. He sobbed and shivered, hiding from himself, when suddenly his grief was intermitted by a round of scratching. He rose his head, narrowing his tear-stained eyes at the repetitive sound. His mind could swear, he heard it a few nights prior as well. In the end, Seishin swallowed a huge lump, forcing his eyes to dull, even though his fists were clenched.

After parting the shoji, the man was greeted by a dark huddled creature.

* * *

A week later, in the late morning, Toshio raised an eyebrow at Ohkawa Tomio. The latter laughed loudly in the doctor's office. 

"So that's how it is... Well, then that's good to hear!" The bulky man leaned back, creaking the tiny swivel chair in return, before he clapped the hands against his thighs enthusiastically. "And I thought it might have been something serious! Sorry for troubling ya, doc!"

"No problem. I'm happy all is well." Toshio nodded and placed his pen down onto his desk, while Ohkawa stood up. "Could you call the next in line?"

"Sure thing, doc!" The man said. He strolled out of the office and parted the door to rather aggressively shout out the question given. He was never blessed with having a calm voice, so Toshio narrowed his eyes, annoyed by the constant racket of the day. These appointments were never ending. Sure, this saved him time from having to do house visits in this weather, but sitting in a chair for the majority of the day, made his legs sore. Soon enough he heard Ohkawa's startled voice. "Yeah? Mitsuo-san, what happened to the head monk?! Sure, I'll help... Come here."

Head monk? Toshio's fingers paused in the middle of sorting documents and his eyes went bloodshot at his pallid friend, being dragged in by Mitsuo and Ohkawa.

"Seishin?" 

The male in question gave him a blank peek, though he couldn't do much else, since his arms were caged and wrapped around foreign shoulders, while his right leg dragged behind. Ohkawa and Mitsuo halted in the middle of the ward, waiting for further instructions. Toshio frowned, stepping behind them to close the door.

"Lay him on the bed."

Once that was done, Toshio walked back with a sigh.

"So what's the problem? Anyone care to fill me in?"

The question was rash and careless, though his eyes searched around Seishin's pained expression for any signs. He leaned forward, checking Seishin's temperature, which seemed to be on the higher end, meanwhile Ohkawa stepped back and Mitsuo cleared his throat.

"There's a cut."

"A cut?" Toshio repeated, his eyes skipping from the conversant at the monk for confirmation. Seishin said nothing and instead closed his eyes, unveiling the sleepless bags beneath them. Mitsuo once again had to respond.

"On his right leg. I think he said, he was chopping wood a couple of days ago and he accidentally..."

Toshio didn't need to hear, what came next, his mind registered the valuable phrases and proclaimed, what he saw, after lifting Seishin's lower funeral robes.

There were hideous blotches around the knee, where a swelling gash was outlined by pus, that could have substituted decorations.

Ohkawa Tomio scratched his bold head at the sight.

"Alright, I think, I saw enough for the morning. All the best to you, doc."

"Ah." Toshio barely answered, too reeled in with the problem in front. Mitsuo, who stood by the side, added in a cracking voice.

"We saw, that the head monk was limping, but he didn't say anything about being injured. Only this morning, we noticed that he was feverish. He said, that he didn't want to trouble you on a flu season and all."

Toshio's nostrils emitted heated fume, in an attempt to withhold the boiling anger. In the meantime he occupied himself with reaching for a packet of alcohol wipes and pulling a few out. A sigh was let loose.

"Alright. You can go now, Mitsuo-san. Thank you for bringing him in."

Mitsuo bowed slightly, and closed the door, after heading out. Meanwhile Toshio began to clean the wound, suppressing a few jolts from Seishin with his other hand, clasped below the knee.

"I don't even know, what to say to you anymore..." His mouth unlocked, after a few minutes of dressing the wound. "If you'd be truly worried about troubling me on a flu season, you would have come right after it happened."

"It was an accident... I thought it would heal on its own..." A frail voice proclaimed, while Toshio finished wrapping adhesive tape, his eyes were strained on the task. 

"Come for a checkup in the next few days. Okay?"

"Ah."

"Alright then..." Toshio grunted awkwardly, leaving the wrapped leg alone. "You've really grown absentminded lately, huh? It's one accident after another."

"I'm not intentional."

"Hmm? Then, what's the problem?" He straightened, hooking one foot over his ankle. Again the all-too-obvious pause jeered at the conversants' tacit exchange of worried eye-contact. Finally, Toshio released a huff, veering his body to the side as if being drunk. In the end, he stood on stable ground again, regaining his composure from the pathetic reason behind all of this.

"Damn it. Get it together, Seishin! It's been a month!" He fumed.

"Toshio, please..."

"Fine. Fine. I understand, it's hard for you and all, but do you deliberately avoid searching for a solution?"

Seishin sat up, grimacing.

"I'll manage somehow."

" _When_?" 

"Eh?"

" _When_ will you manage? When you'll send yourself to the grave? Seishin, you have to do something!"

"I'll try..." He paused, though spoke again, when Toshio was about to interject. "It's not that easy..."

The doctor stared daggers at the head monk. Ancient gears turned and cracked unbridled inside his mind, building up half-baked sentences, before bulldozing them and molding new ones. The male clenched his fists inside his coat's pocket and out of sight, though his attempt at hiding anger was short-lived and his rash words were spewed out as if fleeting rats.

"If there are so many bad memories here in Sotoba..." He had to pause for an impetuous inhale. Inside that short moment the man's psyche was frantically trying to cancel the words he was supposed to utter next. Toshio loathed them. However his hatred was divided into two categories: Toshio's reluctance and the nagging irk to just shut and leave this be, as it had always been... The time, that had been required to take a breath, was overdue and Seishin pressed his lips into a tight line. When a couple of seconds crawled by, Toshio pushed a huge lump down his trachea. "Have you ever thought about moving out?"

The head monk's gaze hardly shifted, he waited for further explanation to this odd idea. Toshio cleared his throat then, straightening his shoulders, after the initial fear had faded.

"If you're plagued by memories of your parents, why not move to the middle Sotoba or even rent a house outside of the village? I suppose that wouldn't be too hard to do."

"Uh... But what about the temple?"

Toshio scoffed at his friend's worrying.

"Nothing's going to happen to the temple. Trust me. You could even find a job somewhere else. Nobody should be able to tell you otherwise."

"That's rather preposterous, don't you think?" Seishin frowned slightly. 

"Only in theory. I'd suggest you try. Take a false vacation at first. You've just lost your parents, people won't bat an eye." The doctor finished rather easily, even though his hands inside the pockets had become sweaty. Seishin, on the other, hand sat still, mulling this proposition; he shook his head.

"Toshio, that's still rather-"

"You don't have to tell anyone. I could cover for you somehow." A rapid cut off... Toshio was insistent. His eagerness made Seishin sulk slightly, while the head monk's stomach churned in on itself, trying to catch the end of his intestines. This proposition scared him, Toshio's stance - even more so. The doctor added. "Come on. I'm not saying, you have to do this here and now, I'm only asking you to give it some thought."

"But... The temple... I-I can't just..."

"We'll hire a priest from Mizobe, that's no big deal. Shinmei-san used to do so on several occasions, when we were kids, remember?" 

"Yes, but those were only for special occasions... If I'll..." The man repressed a shiver, his eyes dimming at the floor below... He could not finish that sentence. How untrue it was. Hypocritical! Why should Seishin bother with the fate of Muroi lineage, when he himself was practically set against marriage? If push comes to shove, he'll probably comply with those norms against his will.

"Seishin, are you alright?"

"Uhm..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, while Toshio peered at him intently. A grunt flew out. "Don't bother."

"Anyway, I think, leaving would be the best option for you. The village is already dying out, you should have noted that as well as me..." A halt. "I would rather know, you're safe and happy, instead of always having you by my side." He lectured and Seishin gave a slight, see-through smirk. Right at that moment something heavy fell down his chest.

* * *

Another handful of days passed by and the sky generously handed a heap of freshly grated snow.

Toshio cautiously lurched through the thick snowy substance, leaving a trail behind himself. He stopped on the slippery porch, panting right next to the entrance of the temple. In times like these, when his lungs practically wheezed, his mind would consider quitting smoking... Alas, that wish was always postponed for another day...

As he was about to turn around, the shoji door opened as if whisked by his wish. Toshio grinned.

"About timing and I was wondering, how I'll manage to push that away." 

The brown-haired man motioned his head at the pile of snow, resting cozily against the auburn door frame. Seishin nodded absentmindedly, dressed only in a light yukata. There was a faded bowl of milk in his hold, that he had placed near the edge of the porch. Toshio straightened and cocked an eyebrow against such an odd action and Seishin supplied, hiding his palms inside the wide sleeves.

"There are a couple of stray cats around the temple."

"Ah. So you're planning on opening a pet shelter?"

"No. But they are rather good company."

Right... Seishin was lonely. Toshio supposed, that sharing this massive abode with animals was better than nothing. He followed the head monk inside, naming that matter done and settled. 

A few rooms in and Toshio's attention was reeled in by a few plain bags, set inside one of the main corridors. The pair hadn't stopped there and instead Seishin led him into the mediocre kitchen. The place seemed rather empty... There were no utensils or plates in sight, the table and cupboards were all cleaned and unused. The room gave off a feeling of being abandoned. While Toshio was in the middle of analyzing this dire oddity - a prospect of inevitable change - he barely heard Seishin's question.

"What would you want? Tea? Coffee? Sake?"

"I'm surprised you still have that..." Toshio chuckled, recalling all those nights they had been cleaning out his late parents' bar. 

"Ah. Do you want any?"

"Nah, I think, I'll pass." The doctor waved a hand languidly, before he kneeled near the huge table. "It's the middle of the day, coffee would suit better."

"Alright then." Seishin nodded curtly, picking up a kettle from an upper drawer with rather flimsy fingers, that kept pausing. His mouth opened up a lot more freely though. "I'm guessing, you're still without lunch. I have yakisoba from Creole, if you'd want."

"Sure thing, I suppose." Toshio placed his unshaved chin inside an opened palm, whilst his eyes stared at the back of the monk. "Now I'll miss your needless pampering as well."

That caused Seishin's gears to a halt. He whirled around, confounded.

"What are you talking about?"

"Eh? What?"

"I don't understand..."

Toshio blushed slightly, before he awkwardly scratched his head, lowering it as well.

"Agh. I misunderstood something..."

"So what did you mean by that?"

"I saw those bags in the hallway... And how we kept talking about you leaving, I thought you finally decided to."

"Uhm." A warm smile decorated Seishin's expression, as he faced the doctor fully. "I'm not leaving Sotoba, Toshio."

"Yeah, I figured, it would be too soon..."

"No. Toshio, I meant to say, I won't be going anywhere at all."

The brown-haired male's demeanor shifted momentarily. His previously displayed confusion was exchanged for a frown. Wasn't that something Toshio wished for Seishin, to have a better life, draw away from all this misfortune? And now it seemed all of his meticulously thought-out efforts sank down the drain or rather were shoved on purpose... Toshio's eyes glimmered with hurt and he stood up all of a sudden.

"Don't go, if you want, but at least give me a reason." Even if he tried to keep his voice neutral, it cracked right before flying out. There was a sickening notion of betrayal inside the doctor's bones, a vile feeling, that he could no longer derail or persuade Seishin, as he had used to... This gamble was lost now and the matter - openly decided. Honestly, he won't be able to do anything.

Seishin's resolve faltered a little, as he gazed at Toshio, who in return drilled the head monk for answers, as the last straw, before proclaiming defeat. Toshio was persistent - Seishin figured that out long ago, though the silver-haired male did not want to let Toshio fall into his self-blaming pit once more. In so, after a silent moment of staring into each other, Seishin walked up to him, gulping dryly.

"I can't escape from my troubles. They'll haunt me wherever I'll go. That's why I've chosen to..." Seishin's speech hushed, as he stood directly in front of the doctor, his mouth still producing unheard letters. Toshio's eyes widened regardless. Before he could say anything, Seishin leaned forward, faintly trailing his fingers to settle on Toshio's cheek, while his other hand lay forgotten.

"Thank you..."

Toshio stood bewildered. He didn't know, how to act, seeing Seishin's empty, determined gaze coming nearer and nearer... Eventually, his lips pressed firmly against Toshio's chapped ones, crushing them, applying just enough pressure to keep them captive and give out his own heat, while the hand forgetfully cupped his friend's cheek. This anonymity lasted only for a moment and Seishin jolted, pulling away as mysteriously as he had started. Now he stood with bashful eyes, burning cheeks and a covered mouth. A meek apology was released.

"Ah. I-I. Uhm, that was out of line."

Toshio was about to interject, harboring the same bright flush, though his hands were quicker in that extent. They impulsively rose upwards, gripped Seishin's discarded palm and dragged the silver-haired male against his own chest. Seishin did not protest, though seemed a little stiff, laying his chin on top of Toshio's shoulder, feeling, how one of the doctor's arms traveled to cover his back, meanwhile Toshio's right one still clutched Seishin's lithe palm.

There was a desperate urge inside Toshio and had coiled inside him right after Seishin's admission. That urge swarmed around his psyche like a pack of lost bees, bumping from one corner to another... 

Both of them were screwed either way... At least this greeting to damnation was a welcoming one...

* * *

Now, so many years later, Toshio could only testify, how true that theory had become. The now fifty-six-year-old man walked back to the temple, passing by empty houses and newly made fields for harvest, where his neighbors used to live. Sotoba was scarcely breathing nowadays. It barely classified as a community, when only three houses, as far as Toshio saw, were still of use... The man himself had left for Hayato long ago, about ten years for the sake of numbers. He did so right after most of Sotoba's shops and businesses had closed down and Seishin mysteriously disappeared without a note or warning... Leaving absolutely nothing and scattering away like pointless dust... Both the clinic and the temple had become obsolete; they were unneeded for a dying land... There had been plans of merging Sotoba with Mizobe and other surrounding towns, but until this day no change was apparent. The dying land continued to rot...

Toshio sighed, dispelling overdue misery from his lungs. This ending felt pathetic, as he looked back at it now. His stubborn friend had remained a mystery, yet to be solved and Toshio had become entirely useless, as there was no one left to protect in the village, he was no leader, nor a person, the villagers could depend on. Back in the day, he had been too riled with the problems inside his personal life to even think about his duties, as one of Sotoba's heads. That was his original flaw. Toshio chewed on the inside of his cheek, while his nostrils relished in the scents of spring, despite his sour thoughts.

As he made it to the temple, he sat down on the mossy steps with a heavy sigh. A huge tabby cat was beside him, too immersed to note the intruder, as it scrupulously licked its paws. Toshio smirked at the diligent creature.

"Hah, I bet you find a lot of mice in the area, eh? It must be nice to not care about anything else." 

His speech sounded corny and the whole idea of conversing with a stray cat should have been ludicrous - Toshio felt lonely... Old, stupid and lonely... So then why not cry his worries to a cat?

A purring cry sounded from the side of the road, though Toshio spared it no heed. His sight was covered by overgrown bushes, so he couldn't flaunt about having a good view. Whatever. Why should he care, if Sotoba became a nest for stray cats? A pair of a person's shambling footsteps invaded his senses soon. They had stopped somewhere in the middle and the cat's cry strengthened such an abrupt pause. Toshio sighed. What were the odds of meeting anyone here... Perhaps he should ignore them; he was well hidden for the time being anyway... Though Toshio's curiosity got the better of him. The man clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and leaned forward. His eyes went bloodshot.

The hunched silver-haired male stood there, vigilantly ogling the rising mountains. He had a rather long beard, which hid most of his wrinkles and fallen in cheeks. A small auburn kitten spun around its master's legs with a tail raised high in the air in a praying or delightful manner. That was...

"S-seishin..." Toshio muttered in disbelief, causing the other male to turn in the same confounded manner. 

No other words were needed for Toshio to spring up from his seat with an immutable crack from his stagnant bones. He quickly made his way to the silver-haired male, watching as a smile grew bigger and bigger on the other's face. Toshio enveloped him in a hug, sobbing at the man's shoulder and Seishin returned an even tighter grip around the former doctor's back. The two cats came over, sniffing both pairs of legs and curiously looking up at their shaking master for some kind of confirmation, that he was okay. In the end, since there was no visible change, they rounded circles, caging Toshio's and Seishin's legs together, while the men stayed rooted in place.

All they had left were memories... Those, that had staked them down to Sotoba with no remorse. They had their good times, their grief and agony, secrets, hidden behind each sleeve, all of those drew them together, tying loose ends into an incomprehensible bond and a myriad of visions... Their struggles and happiness remained just that - a fuzzy nonsensical mess...


End file.
